Poems by Robert Nicoll Second edition: with numerous additions, and a memoir of the author |
 | I. |
THE FOLK O' OCHTERGAEN.
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| III. |
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 | Poems by Robert Nicoll |  |
THE FOLK O' OCHTERGAEN.
Happy, happy be their dwallin's,
By the burn an' in the glen—
Cheerie lasses, cantie callans,
Are they a' in Ochtergaen.
By the burn an' in the glen—
Cheerie lasses, cantie callans,
Are they a' in Ochtergaen.
Happy was my youth amang them—
Rantin' was my boyhood's hour;
A' the winsome ways about them,
Now, when gane, I number o'er.
Rantin' was my boyhood's hour;
A' the winsome ways about them,
Now, when gane, I number o'er.
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's, &c.
Weel I mind ilk wood an' burnie,
Couthie hame an' muirland fauld,—
Ilka sonsie, cheerfu' mither,
An' ilk father douce an' auld!
Couthie hame an' muirland fauld,—
Ilka sonsie, cheerfu' mither,
An' ilk father douce an' auld!
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's, &c.12
Weel I mind the ploys an' jokin's
Lads and lasses used to ha'e—
Moonlight trysts an' Sabbath wanders
O'er the haughs an' on the brae.
Lads and lasses used to ha'e—
Moonlight trysts an' Sabbath wanders
O'er the haughs an' on the brae.
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's, &c.
Truer lads an' bonnier lasses
Never danced beneath the moon;—
Love an' Friendship dwelt amang them,
An' their daffin' ne'er was done.
Never danced beneath the moon;—
Love an' Friendship dwelt amang them,
An' their daffin' ne'er was done.
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's, &c.
I ha'e left them now for ever;
But, to greet, would bairnly be:
Better sing, an' wish kind Heaven
Frae a' dool may keep them free.
But, to greet, would bairnly be:
Better sing, an' wish kind Heaven
Frae a' dool may keep them free.
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's, &c.
Where'er the path o' life may lead me,
Ae thing sure—I winna mane
If I meet wi' hands an' hearts
Like those o' cantie Ochtergaen.
Ae thing sure—I winna mane
If I meet wi' hands an' hearts
Like those o' cantie Ochtergaen.
Chorus—
Happy, happy be their dwallin's,By the burn an' in the glen—
Cheerie lasses, cantie callans,
Are they a' in Ochtergaen.
| Poems by Robert Nicoll | |